


Untitled

by Enamourous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-24
Updated: 2012-11-24
Packaged: 2017-11-19 09:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enamourous/pseuds/Enamourous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean dies for the last time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

When Dean Winchester dies for the last time it isn’t at the hand of a spirit, or a leviathan, or a demon. In fact, it isn’t at the hand of anything supernatural at all. 

It’s a tumor. Stage four bone cancer.

It’s funny, Dean said when he was still healthy enough to joke about it, that out of all the things he’d seen and all the things he’d done it’s cancer that ends up being what does him in. 

“Who would have thought Sammy? I’m not invincible after all.”

Sam doesn’t laugh though, because he doesn’t think it’s funny.

He sits by Dean’s hospital bed most days. Dean’s last month.

At first Sam tried to keep him occupied, read him newspaper clippings and told him about insignificant things. But during Dean’s last days Sam found that his strength and will to speak drained out of him and most of the time was passed in silence.Sometimes Sam would lean forward in his chair, resting his forehead on Dean’s bed blankets and just listen to his brother breathe. He’d pull the blankets into his fist and hold on tight, thinking, thinking of a way he could fix this. At first, Dean would lay a hand on the back of Sam’s neck and try to comfort him but that only made Sam cry, so Dean didn’t do it anymore.

Sam was so tired, and he wasn’t even the one dying. 

Dean had managed to keep himself out of the hospital up until those last three weeks, outside of a couple earlier batches of chemo treatments. He refused to go any sooner, even when the pain was enough to keep him up at night. When he went through the chemo he was horrible to be around, throwing up and temper seething, frustration bubbling just below the surface. He’d snap at Sam constantly, telling him to get the hell away from him, leave him to die in peace. 

Sam was dying with his brother, his world dimming each day Dean didn’t smile, each time he found his brother crying and shaking in the bathroom.

But even then Dean still had time. That was before he’d decided he wanted to go on his own terms. 

Sam didn’t know what to say when Dean told him, didn’t have the heart to yell at his exhausted brother. He couldn’t tell him assisted suicide was out of the question, or that it wasn’t fucking fair that Dean was taking away even more of the little time Sam had left with him. He knew it would be impossible to convince him anyway because even before Dean had been diagnosed he’d given up. Dean had wanted to die for a long time, this was just the perfect excuse. Sam had watched the personality drain out of him over the past nine years, saw the lines in his brothers face deepen each time another of their friends were ripped from them.

Cancer was the icing on the cake. Dean wouldn’t come back this time because he just didn’t want to. 

The day Dean died Sam tried not to blink, didn’t look away, didn’t miss a second. He held Dean’s hand and he told him not to go. 

“You can’t go. You can’t go if I can’t come with you.”

He asked Dean to tell him stories he’d never heard, partly because he’d never get the chance to hear them after this. Mostly because he wanted to hear Dean’s voice. They didn’t talk about anything important. They just talked.

Sam was curled around Dean when it happened. When Dean died for the last time it was in Sam’s arms. 

Dean had told him “Keep going when I’m gone Sammy, It’ll be fine”. But it never was. Not really.


End file.
